IMing the Dead
by Loki Mischeif-Maker
Summary: Lupin's working late and starts getting IMs from Sirius. Not too unusual, right? It is if it's post OotP. . . .


**Disclaimer:** _Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Fred and George Weasley, Harry Potter, Voldemort, and anyone else I refer to in the text don't belong to me, as much as I might wish they do._

**Author's Note**: _The IMs are fixed now!_

Remus Lupin sat typing up a letter. Grimmauld Place was dark, and it was only the computer's glow that he used for light. He glanced at his watch— 1:30AM. It was no small wonder, then, that it was the coffee that was keeping him awake.

With another tremendous yawn, Remus glanced at his email. It was most of the way finished, and no one was going to read it until tomorrow afternoon, as no one would have the chance. He glanced at the coffee mug, which was still almost half-full, and glared back at the computer. He could put the finishing touches on it tomorrow without too much trouble, but there was the fact that he'd said he'd do it tonight.

"It _is_ tomorrow," Remus reminded himself, fiddling with the mouse. "No one'll mind."

The mouse hovered over the "Sign Off" button for a moment, then an IM screen came up. "Who do I know that's up this late?" Remus mumbled, glancing over at it.

Even in the sheen of a computer screen, grey from lack of luck and sleep, he paled. Remus felt a chill sweep over him, and for one wild, wonderful moment, he thought it was true. Then, of course, he crashed back down to earth. Despite the fact that it sounded like him, it _felt_ like him, it couldn't be. Sirius Black was dead, and had been for almost a month.

Nevertheless, it was there on an Instant Message.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** Hullo, Remus

He wanted to answer, wanted to write back, but it wasn't. It couldn't be. Finally, however, paler than the glow and trembling, he found a reply. He clicked "Send" and held his breath, waiting for the gale of internet laughter.

**MoonlightMarauder:** Highly amusing, Fred and George, setting up an IM account for Sirius. I hope you didn't do it to Harry; he's taking it harder than me.

Wondering why he humored those two, then smiling reminiscently, remembering how much they were like a redheaded Sirius and James, Remus turned back to his letter, deciding to finish it.

He saw, though, when the reply came.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** No, I haven't scared Harry half to death. Yet. Nor am I a Weasley twin. How is Harry, anyway?

Remus sighed. "I'm hallucinating," he muttered. "Too much coffee."

**MoonlightMarauder:** He's fine physically. He's taking loosing you hard, though. Poor kid's been blaming himself.

There was a pause, then "PadfootisSortofBack is typing" appeared at the bottom of the window. He didn't know why he was waiting for a reply to this nonsense. But somewhere within him, Remus wanted . . . _needed_ . . . this fantasy. Whether he found out later it was a hallucination or a Weasley twin having fun with him, right now he had one of his best friends back.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** WHAT?! Tell him from me it's not, and that I wouldn't have him any other way. James would've done it, too. . . .

Remus smiled. James _would_ have come after Sirius rather than leave it to the Order. _He_ might have, too. Moony was dormant but not gone, after all. That reckless streak was there, and loyalty had never faded.

**MoonlightMarauder:** Sure thing. But don't IM him, Sirius, that'll only torture him more.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** Why? I'd let him know he did the right thing. The stupid thing, but the right one.

Remus sighed. Sirius was like that; it hadn't occurred to him that a great deal of uproar would result from escaping from Azkaban, why not cause a minor one IMing his godson dead? Because Harry was less likely to play along than "Moony" was.

**MoonlightMarauder:** He's been told that before. Plenty of times.

**PadfootisSortofBack**: Not by the man that died as a result.

Remus stared at that reply for a moment, hands hesitating at the keyboard. He had to admit it was right. "Not that it's ever going to happen," he murmured. "I know you've got the common sense I always used to say you'd never have."

**MoonlightMarauder:** True. So where are you?

**PadfootisSortofBack:** Um . . . Limbo, I think. Not Hell.

**MoonlightMarauder:** Yet.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** ha ha

_Bark, bark, you mean,_ Remus thought, remembering how doglike Sirius had been even before he was an Animangus— doglike laugh, doglike stubbornness, doglike openness . . . and doglike loyalty. Sirius was mad, certainly, but his heart was in the right place.

And just now, Remus would've given anything for that heart to still be beating.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** So how have you been?

**MoonlightMarauder:** I'm alright. S'pose I'm as fine as a werewolf can be that's just lost his best friend.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** Ouch . . . so nothing's really wrong?

Remus sighed. _Yes there is,_ a part of him screamed. _You're not here!_ But the rest of him, his sane side, knew what was wrong was having this conversation.

**MoonlightMarauder:** Sirius, we both know the reason we're having this conversation is that it's late and I've had too much coffee, which makes me slightly schizophrenic.

Remus hesitated before clicking "Send" this time. He didn't want this fantasy to end, but part of him knew it had to. It wasn't any good, living in the past.

It was a moment before Sirius replied.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** Remus, that's whiskey. At least the stuff that would make you THIS far gone.

"But I want this," Remus whispered. "I _really_ want this. I'm tired and I miss you and I've had a lot of caffeine. I wish you were right, Padfoot, but you're not."

**PadfootisSortofBack:** I had your reaction when I got one from James.

"Now I _know_ I'm dreaming," Remus muttered sadly.

**MoonlightMarauder:** You went almost straight to Azkaban. You didn't have access to a computer and I doubt James could use one.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** You're probably right. And it was an owl, actually. A note saying that he didn't blame me and I hadn't known and I shouldn't do anything stupid. James had UNMISTAKABLE handwriting, you know that. Could've used that advice twenty-four hours previously, couldn't I?

Remus shook his head, smiling. Sirius would have that reaction, wouldn't he?

**MoonlightMarauder:** I seem to remember giving that piece of advice to you when we first heard Voldemort was after the Potters. At LEAST twice.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** Yeah, but it would've hit home better coming from James.

Remus sighed. For the whole of that conversation, he'd felt like a dead weight was on his chest. It still hadn't lifted, but since he knew the fantasy was over when it did, he didn't want it to.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** I can get a three-party connection and bring in James, too.

Remus was sorely tempted to say "yes," but there were some things he wanted that he just couldn't do. One of them was talk to James. James's death was simply too real to him by now, real like Sirius's wasn't.

**MoonlightMarauder:** I really want to say "yes," Padfoot, but no. I can't.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** I can accept that.

This was followed by a very pregnant pause, during which Remus struggled to find something, anything, to say. But it was Sirius who answered first.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** Remus, it's late. What in hell are you doing up at this time of night?

**MoonlightMarauder:** Working.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** If it's on a computer, it can wait. You need to take care of yourself, and it's rather obvious you're not doing that.

"You're one to talk," Remus muttered.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** Promise me you'll sign off and go to bed?

**MoonlightMarauder:** I promise, Sirius. I miss you.

**PadfootisSortofBack:** I miss you, too, Remus. Bye

**MoonlightMarauder:** Bye

Remus sighed as he signed off. It had been one of those wondrous fantasies, but there was no way it could've lasted long. The weight lifted off his chest, and apprehensive elation faded into exhaustion. Sirius was dead again.

He did miss Sirius. But Padfoot was right; he also needed to take care of himself.

. . . . .

Remus woke up an hour or so after dawn, but he didn't feel up to facing reality, and lay with his eyes closed for a moment or so. It was curiosity that burned in him as much as doubt, however, and he did have to finish that letter.

The minute he signed on, though, he knew he had to check it out rather than work. With more apprehension than he'd ever had in his memory, save for the first time he's ventured out of the shrieking shack with his friends, he wrote a note to whomever really had the screen name "PadfootisSortofBack."

_Sirius,_

_I hope you took my point about Harry. Your IM/emailing him won't make things easier on him. He needs the time alone, to think about it and accept it, after all, and an email from you makes that harder. I miss you and James more than ever after last night, but at least I've managed to let go before._

_If you're Fred or George: I'm not mad at you. I don't suppose I can really be all that disappointed, either. I won't yell or say something nasty, I just want to know it was you._

_—Remus_

He bit his lip when he clicked "Send," fully expecting it to turn out to be the coffee and the computer to say that no such email address existed. It didn't come back to him, however. At least not at once.

Remus finished his letter, sent it, and stalled on the internet for about half an hour, before he decided that he wasn't going to get a reply and it was therefore time to log off and do something in the real world. It wasn't going to do him any good, living in the past. It was time to let go.

That was when the computer announced, "You've got mail."

Assuming it was Harry or someone in the Order, Remus sighed and clicked on his inbox. Sitting there, alone, was an email from "PadfootisSortofBack," with the subject "I'm here . . . but only if you need me."

"It's a joke," Remus told himself firmly, his voice hushed to a whisper and oddly choked. Fortunately, he knew Fred or George would admit the trick in the email and not lead him along any further. And maybe . . . maybe Sirius had sent it. Maybe they did have a way in Limbo.

Trembling, Remus clicked on the note.

**Author's Note:** _I got this idea as a combination parody between "Sirius is alive" fics and email fics, but when it hit the "Twilight Zone," I discovered I liked it like that, and it was either humor or eerie. I chose eerie, though I know several things about it are sort of "out there" as to cannon, but I hope both of them are in character. Also, as for the IMs, I've noticed it's teenagers that use IM slang, not adults. And I refer to Remus Lupin as Remus in the text because its from his PoV and that's how he would refer to himself. He's Lupin in the books because that's how Harry thinks of him and the books are from Harry's PoV. I invite reviews and will return them._ _So, what do you think? Please, please don't ask me to continue this fic. It was intended as a one shot, and answering the question I've tried to build up takes away the mystery quality I wanted, though I'm interested to know how you thought it worked and who you think it is. You're comments do me no good unless they are given, after all. Cheers! — Loki Mischief-Maker_


End file.
